


Of Wisps and Demons

by Era_Asha



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders Needs a Hug, Anders Positive, Background M!Hawke/Fenris, Carver isn't going to be a whiny ass, F/M, Justice Positive, Mages and Templars, Minor Fenris/Hawke, OC, Original Character - Freeform, Spirit corruption, Templars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Era_Asha/pseuds/Era_Asha
Summary: Iselan has been on the run with her friend Eolas for a long time. Too long. As they make their way north, away from the prying eyes of the Chantry, chance meets them with a familiar face Iselan never thought she'd see again. Iselan was only meaning to pass through Kirkwall but unforeseen circumstances force her and her companion to buckle down in Kirkwall, and as fate would have it, with Anders. Secrets on top of secrets keep them from prying too deep but they are more similar than they realize, each making promises they cant keep and deals they could never know the scope of.This is going to be multi chapter fic following the tale of Iselan and Anders during the events of DA:II. Hawke and their companions will make appearances but this will be focused on exploring the Mage Underground and the circumstances that lead to Anders' betrayal.





	Of Wisps and Demons

Darktown was never a pleasant place but the bitter winter cold did nothing to improve matters. Iselan slogged through stuff she hesitated to call mud, toward the clinic that the elves in the alienage had told her about. The Darktown Healer. A mage that risked life and limb to help those in need without asking for anything in return. Not that Iselan needed any healing, but she couldn’t help but want to aid this mage, whoever they were.

Eolas shuffled behind her, grumbling fangless threats and complaints about the cold, the dark, the smell, the tight spaces, anything really. He’d voiced all of these complaints to her earlier in their little trip and had resigned himself to following her into a literal pit of filth in hope to find and help an altruistic man heal the poor of this city.

A little ways off a single point of diffused light shined in the distance.

“Finally.” Iselan sighed in relief. They approached the lantern cautiously, not knowing what to expect. What they found was a silent innocuous door, She’d knocked four times as they’d been told and waited. They didn’t have to wait long as a wisp of elf with flaming red hair opened the door, spilling noise and light out into the hallway. She gave the two of them a once over then spoke in harsh, hushed tones.

“You don’t look injured. What do you want?”

Iselan raised her hand pulling from the fade, making it glow softly. “To help.” The elf narrowed her eyes and opened the door further, allowing them to pass through. They were immediately bombarded with light and sound and _activity_. There were easily fifty people in this room. She immediately spotted the mage, his hair put up in a messy ponytail and magic pouring out of him in blue waves over a young man who was severely burned. Iselan looked around an noticed that most of the people in here we're dealing with similar injuries, there must have been a fairly large fire.

Iselan moved toward some of the worst victims that she saw and began drawing from the fade to help promote healing. When some of them shied away from her and her magic she tried to assure them. “Don’t worry, I’m here to help.”

Eolas sighed and started talking to one of the other helpers offering his knowledge and an extra set of hands. He was eagerly swept away into the rest of the chaos but she could always feel his aura nearby.

The room was filled to the brim with spiritual energy, It seemed every time she reached for her magic a dozen spirits we clamoring to help her while normally she would only find one, maybe two, to help. Even though it was hard work she had to admit meeting this many spirits at once was invigorating, each with a slightly different approach to helping her. Faith gently coaxing the skin to heal, Passion magically slapping the wounds into shape, Sorrow oozing over the marred flesh and coming away with the hurt as well as the injury.

A few hours of draining her mana later she finally caught the eye of the Healer, his eyebrows rose in surprise, but she just smiled back. He was gaunt and haggard from too little sleep and to little food but looking into his amber eyes was familiar somehow, she couldn’t place it. She was trying to remember where she knew him from but was pulled from her thoughts too soon by another man’s pleas.

What felt like days after when she first came in, the last patient was finally cared for, either sleeping in one of the many cots or sent home with a salve or instructions to come back. She slumped down against the wall next to Eolas who, unsurprisingly, was already asleep.

The red-haired elf that greeted them at the door, Ramira, handed her a bowl of stew. Ramira sat across from them, slowly eating out of her own bowl.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a mage as ballsy as you down here other than the Healer. I don’t know where you came from, but thank you. He can can only do so much.”

“I was only passing through, but when I heard what he was doing... I couldn’t just leave.”

Ramira snorted, “Well you’re better than most folk, then.”

“To true.”

They continued to eat in silence, until the healer in question sat next to the two elven women. He turned and smiled at Iselan. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

At the sound of his voice realization hit her and she gasped, “Anders!” He smiled for the first time since she got there, “I barely even recognized you!”

“And you look the same as ever, Issy. Even though you’re covered in blood. Actually, now that I think about it, I find that it makes the picture even more familiar.”

“Hey.” She said, her tone serious. “Templar blood doesn’t count. Remember?”

Anders chuckled, “I do.” His eyes softened, “It’s been a long time, Issy. What are you even doing here?”

“Actually, I was just passing through on my way north but It turned out that there was a healer in need of assistance.”

He chuckled until he looked at her questioningly,“You didn’t know it was me?”

Iselan shrugged, “Not until just now.”

“You’re something else, Issy...”.

“ _I_ am? You’re the one running a free, one man clinic in the literal pit of darkness.”

“True,” He agreed, “But most people are not as crazy as I am.”

She rose an eyebrow and put her hand to her chest in mock offense, “You should know by now, that I,” She paused for dramatic effect, “Am not most people.”

“Ha! That you are Issy, That you are.”

“Tell me, Anders, how have you been?” Iselan’s smile was soft and fond as she looked at her old friend, “What impossible thing are you trying to achieve this time?” She gestured to the dingy space that had been turned into Anders’ clinic, “This can’t be it. This isn’t nearly grand enough for you Anders.”

He laughed again. “This is about as grand as it gets these days, I’m afraid.”

“I know you too well to believe that.” She narrowed her eyes and pointed her spoon at him accusingly, “You and I both know that not all plans start off with a bang.”

“A lot has changed since you last saw me Issy...”

Her smile turned a little sad at the sight of her friend so blatantly lying, “Don’t worry. If you don’t already have one, I’m sure we can find something impossible to tackle together.” They both laughed and after that there was a long stretch of silence where they all finished their stew and just sat together, enjoying the calm and the company. The dirt packed floor was more than enough for Iselan’s exhausted body as she contentedly rested her head on Eolas’ smooth brown hair and softly slipped into unconsciousness.

_Iselan opened her eyes and found herself in a harsh ivory courtyard with cold golden statues looking down on her. To her back was the Waking Sea crashing against the Crying Cliffs of the Wounded Coast. In one hand there was a silver blade with red crystal growing from the hilt and in the other there was a black staff with three intricately carved dragon heads. Or were they carved at all? She looked closer and when one of them blinked she quickly turned back to the statues but even as her gaze lingered, one of them moved. She stepped forward and her footstep rang through the stone around her._

_Chaos._

_The once golden statues turned to bronze and reached out to her, crying tears of midnight for her help. Blood seeped through the flagstones beneath her bare feet. She stumbled backwards only to be consumed by the sea and crashed against the craggy rocks on the shore. The dragon's bit her hand and the crystal threatened to consume her when an arm grabbed her and wrenched her back. She yelled in surprise and panic until she noticed that she was no longer in the dreaded courtyard or the chaotic sea but in the expanse of the raw fade being held by Eolas._

_He was murmuring soft comforting nothings into her ear until she steadily began to relax. She gripped onto his silky robes and shook in his arms as the adrenaline wore off. Finally he loosened his grip so he could look on her face._

_“Are you alright, ma Asha?”_

_“I told you not to call me that, Eolas.” She broke away from his grip and gave him a disapproving look._

_“And yet I still do. You should surely throw me off the battlements.”_

_“We don’t have any battlements.”_

_Eolas stares and her and smiles, the scene around them shifting to the top of castle wall, battlements stretching below their feet._

_She glared at him but the slight upturn of her lips betrayed it for the fondness it was. After failing to keep the smile from spreading she rolled her eyes, “You’re incorrigible.” Even though she was still shaken by the nightmare, the familiar banter had a calming effect on her nerves. They calmly walked through the fade together, watching other dreamers play out their hopes and terrors, hand in hand-_

A large man stumbled into the clinic, red staining the front of his piecemeal armor with a crossbow bolt sticking out of his abdomen.

She shoved Eolas’ sleeping form off of her and rose to help. Anders wasn’t here yet but no doubt someone was already running to get him. She didn’t feel rested, per say, the hard floor and awkward position made sure of that, but her mana was full and her aura perky after at least a few hours of sleep.

Iselan and a few of the other assistants that were awake helped lay the man down in his back. Thankfully he had kept the bolt in so there was less of a chance of him bleeding out or dying from infection. Before she said anything she checked him over with her magic allowing her hands to glow with warm golden light, assessing that he did not have any other major injuries.

His eyes were beginning to glaze over with pain so she tried to get his attention.

“Hey. Hey.” She snapped in front of his face, his eyes finally focusing on her. “How long ago did you get this. I need to know if I’m going to help you.” He thought for a second.

“Maybe an hour?” Iselan nodded to the other assistants.

“That’s a long time. I’m going to have pull this out, alright?” She said to the poor man. He shakily nodded. “On three.” The assistants tightened their grip

“One.”

“Two.” She pulled as quickly and as straight as she could. He cried out. Thankfully it wasn’t an arrow so it didn’t have any barbs but even the smooth bolt could cause a lot of damage over the course of walking here and possibly fighting with it. Gut wounds were never pretty.

The moment the blade was out of him she began laying down several spells, one of them put him to sleep after she determined it wouldn’t kill him. The moment he was unconscious she began barking out orders to the staff to check outside to see if there were others and to get her some elfroot, bandages, and water. It turned out that the bolt had penetrated the large intestine and that could easily lead to infection and a slow death if they weren’t careful.

She quickly sealed the intestine first before inviting the Passion spirit from earlier to help burn out any possible leakage from the organ, thus hoping to stop the infection from taking hold and spreading. It took her several minutes for her and Passion to carefully burn his insides to Iselan’s satisfaction. She was glad that he was able to sleep because she never did like the screaming that kind of magic caused.

After a few more minutes of healing she bandaged him up with orders that she should be notified when he wakes up or if he doesn’t within the next 6 hours. When it turned out that there were no other wounded people on the way she turned around to find Anders watching her with an interested expression.

“You have the instincts of a healer.”

“Oh, and who taught _you_ those Healer instincts I wonder?” She tapped her chin in thought, “Oh wait, it was me.”

“No.” He corrected, “Teaching me how to interact with spirits is not the same as teaching me how to handle wounds and live patients.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him and put as much sarcasm as she could into her response, “Oh I’m _sorry_ we didn’t have more scrambling at the tower. It would have been a bit hard for anyone how to learn how to do it properly without many patients.”

“I don’t know... Not having many patients could be a good thing these days.” She nodded, her mood had sobered quickly as she was reminded of the sheer amount of people in cots. Anders gestured back at her most recent patient.

“What were those spells that you put down after pulling out the bolt?” She grasped onto the change of subject quickly, not wanting to dwell.

“Which ones? I had a diagnostic, a infection ward, a pain reliever, and a sleep spell.”

“An Infection ward? What does that even do?”

“It’s similar to burning infection or sickness out of blood except out of the air and nearby surfaces then it casts a barrier thin enough to allow flesh and magic through, so as long as you keep your hands clean it maintains a small area that is more or less free of infectious substances.”

“Then how do you keep the heat high enough without causing a fire?”

“Well... It’s happened a few times, but I think I’ve got it now...”

With that she starting explaining the intricacies of the sigil with Anders who regularly interjected with opinions and questions in equal measure. She ended up pulling out parchment and a piece of charcoal and she could almost mistake it for a late night in the library. It keenly reminded Iselan of some of her better memories from the Circle.

_It was just past midnight. The candles lighting the rest of the room had been long extinguished and the four young mages had snuck into the library with only a single orb of blue light hovering between them. Karl, Iselan, Elise, and Anders were all pouring over a book Elise had found under a floorboard in her dorm. It was bound in plain brown leather and on the front there was no title except for a small stamp of the Tevinter Dragons at the bottom right corner, and on the first page, in perfect script, was “The Common Misconception of Spirits & Demons Written by Markus Leviticus and Translated by Alix Gagnon”. It was most certainly banned by the Chantry and should have been stored away in one of the many vaults in the lower reaches of the Tower, but instead it found its way to the small group of troublemakers sitting in the library. With each page turned the four of them would silently read and then erupt into whispered arguments on implications and contradictions of what they were taught by their teachers there in the Circle. Sometimes, when there was a particularly vicious debate, one of them would storm off and find other books to backup their claim, slowly filling the wide mahogany table with open books in various states of use and disuse. _

_Without the Templars watching they unabashedly questioned everything and brought out little secrets they had been holding onto, Books, Journals, Trinkets lost and forgotten, new magics they had discovered. These days were times that they all cherished, a bright light in the darkness._

Iselan smiled at the memory. In front of them there were at least three pages full of notes along with two precious books fetched from the back of the clinic. They were in the middle of a debate involving how demons would affect Spirit Healing when she started laughing at the absurdity of it all. Anders was understandably confused at her behavior.

“Did you finally crack and let one in just to prove me wrong?” She started laughing even harder, struggling to breath.

“I just- Oh Maker... I can’t believe it hasn’t even been a full day since I got here and we’re already debating.”

Anders’ confusion was replaced by an amused grin, “Well it’s not my fault demons are inherently corrupting.”

Iselan’s sudden mirth turned watery. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him and the time they had spent together. She and Eolas had spent so long on the road hiding, searching, and ultimately running. From everything. The templars, the seekers, scared folk, even demons were hot on their trail. She stared at the thin, sleep deprived, inkstained man in front of her and quickly pulled him into her arms before the tears fell.

Anders went stiff in shock, his arms sticking out awkwardly until he gently wrapped his arms around her.

“I missed you too, Issy.”


End file.
